How quickly it's come to this.
Clan, colleagues, kids and comrades scattered across the electronic leylines and strands of a vast network.
My backyard fence is in Indiana, my doorstop faces the Sierras, and my mail comes to me courtesy of machines sent forth on their graceless rounds by other machines.
How did I lose easy banter and touch and pen strokes so effortlessly? When did my envelopes gain a patina of dust and errands become a two-dimensional exercise accompanied by staccato clicks and taps?
I want to draw them in again. Haul back the nets that once scattered them out across a rarified landscape of zeros and ones.
I want warmth and flirtatious eyes and pointless handshakes again.
“It’s good to see you.”
“Thank you, it’s good to be seen.”
What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to retrieve.

Wonderfully said, Paul . My sentiments exactly. I'm perturbed to see that we are losing something when we have stopped interacting with people as we used to do. Earlier this year, I received a wedding invitation with a stick-on address label and a fill-in-the-blank Thank you card for a shower gift. Some people may say these are the "new" way, but I like the old-fashioned ways that show that you care..